


Barter and Trade

by timeespaceandpixiedust



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-10
Updated: 2016-02-20
Packaged: 2018-05-19 10:55:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5964691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/timeespaceandpixiedust/pseuds/timeespaceandpixiedust
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clarke might be mildly obsessed with the girl at the coffee shop. Raven might be too inquisitive and far too annoying about the whole thing. And Lexa...well Lexa might be playing hard to get. </p><p>Or the coffee shop AU I wrote on a whim</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I officially have a problem. This was supposed to be a one shot but got a little too long and has ultimately ended up in three chapters now. So a threeshot it is! Expect a healthy dose of fluff, some fun Raven/Clarke friendship and the only sort of ending these things are allowed to have. Let me know what you guys think and if you even want more.

“So who’s the girl?” Raven bursts into Clarke’s room on a Monday night, soda can in hand and a pencil tucked behind her ear. “Or boy, I don’t mean to discriminate.” She gestures for Clarke to move over and she does even though it’s her bed and Raven didn’t really have the right to just shove her off. But she flops down and sends Clarke’s collection of coloured pencils in eight different directions. “Don’t stare at me like that; you’ve been in here drawing for hours. You know when you tend to draw for hours like this? When you’re in love.”

 

Clarke shakes her head and rolls her eyes, giving her friend a hearty shove so she squeals, falling from her perch on the bed and tumbling to the floor. She holds her soda can up in the air and impressively manages not to spill anything. “Would you rather not get our security deposit back or something?” Raven asks with a glare as she heaves herself back up from the floor. “Don’t hate me cause I’m right.”

 

“I hate you because you’re annoying,” Clarke finally says, pretending to focus on the piece in front of her. She’d been working on it for the last hour or so. “And my drawing time is hardly related to my relationship status.”

 

“Oh please! The amount of time you spend here holed up in your room and skipping classes is directly related to how many feelings you have rolling around in that blonde head of yours and inversely related to how much time you actually have to spend on it.”

 

With a sigh Clarke shoots Raven another glare. “Can you leave now? I’m busy.” That was a lie. She wasn’t busy in the slightest. But Raven was right and Clarke had not spent the last six hours sketching and painting and drawing just to have all of her feelings dredged back to the surface.

 

The only answer she receives is a raised eyebrow as Raven pulls the sketchbook away from Clarke, flipping the pages back to all of today’s earlier musings. “I may not know a damn thing about actual art, but I do know when you are crushing on someone. And these definitely signify a _serious_ crush.”

 

Clarke reaches forward and snatches it back, careful to make sure Raven will let go and none of her work will be ruined. “I’m just trying to practise a few things. School hasn’t left me much time for it.”

 

“You’re a dirty liar, Clarke Griffin,” Raven declares as she stands from the floor.  “And don’t think I don’t have my ways of discovering the truth.” She strides toward the door and stops to spin dramatically, peering her head back through. “Oh I _will_ get to the bottom of this.”

 

Clarke throws the first thing her hand can find at Raven’s retreating figure.

 

//

 

The next morning announces itself too soon and Clarke has little choice but to haul herself out of bed and off to class where she would hand in the most half-assed homework assignment of…well, of this week. It wasn’t that she was a bad student. It was just that she was occasionally a lazy student. It didn’t help that she had gotten an apartment with her best friend Raven Reyes who was a genius ten times over and thus always on the search for something else to do as her own homework took mere seconds.

 

Of course it’s raining when Clarke gets outside and she hadn’t bothered to bring her umbrella and there was no way in hell that she was climbing back up all those stairs to get it. So she just keeps her head down and her cell phone shoved deep in her pocket. If one more phone ended up waterlogged she was convinced her mom would have her head.

 

It wasn’t that she had gotten out of bed with the intention of stumbling into the only Java Jaha on the way to class, but it was cold and she was wet and tired and there was no freaking way she was attempting to make it through a two hour art history lesson without some caffeine in her system.

 

The bell above the door rings as Clarke walks through, and she can’t help but think it’s was an awfully outdated contraption to still be put to use.  It’s warm and the lighting is dim from the gloomy clouds outside. Instrumental music plays quietly in the background, but it’s easy to tell that the real noise of this place rested in the clinking of dishes and the beeping of machines as costumers joked and laughed amongst themselves. It was a cozy place and, even better in Clarke’s mind, it was familiar. Leaving home had been initially hard, especially with how sick her dad had been, and something about this place reminded her of Sunday mornings and blueberry muffins. Even if there weren’t cartoons playing in the background or her dad lounging about in his oversized blue bathrobe that had been around since the dawn of time.

 

“Hang tight, princess,” Bellamy, her most attentive barista, says from behind the counter. “Latte machine is in high demand today.”

 

“Take your time,” she says with a wave of her hand. She wasn’t exactly running out of here in a rush. Clarke had left early for her class and it wasn’t that she was here looking for someone exactly, but if she was around a few extra minutes and just so happened to bump into this person then where was the harm in that? Plus Mr. Kane would hardly miss her for the first ten minutes of his drawling lecture. He was the type of teacher who got so obsessed with what he was talking about he forgot that there were actual students there waiting to learn something.

 

Clarke plants herself on one of the barstools, knowing Bellamy will come find her whenever her drink is ready. She taps a pattern against the counter and peers over the man’s shoulder on her left, skimming an article about the latest politic faux pas.

 

Maybe she shouldn’t be surprised when someone comes and sits down next to her, after all, it was a little bit why she was here in the first place. Even so Clarke is all quick heart beats and swooning stomach as soon as she turns and catches a glance of who’s next to her.

 

“Morning,” the girl says when she catches her eye. This was not their first time happening upon each other in this god forsaken coffee shop. The girl came here almost as frequently as Clarke it would seem, though Bellamy called her ‘commander’ instead of ‘princess,’ and she kind of took to sitting in Clarke’s bar stool a few weeks back.

 

Of course it had turned into somewhat of a competition for the next several days. It got to the point where Clarke was waking up to be at this damn place a full hour and a half before her class and this other girl was still beating her in. “What do you sleep outside?” she had asked one morning when she walked in here before the sun had finished its ascent over the trees only to find that this other girl had _still_ beaten her.

 

It had been an unspoken game but Clarke had breathed it to life that day. The girl had laughed high and clear and Clarke knew she was gone. Damn girls and their cute laughs. “That was the next step, but I think it’s time we find something else to fight over.” She slides off the bar stool and takes her to go coffee cup in hand. “I’m exhausted.”

 

And then she just freaking left.

 

After that Clarke didn’t see her as consistently and, when she did, it was always in the barstool next to Clarke’s unofficially reserved one. At the very least she appreciated the girl’s mercy. But now when Clarke saw her it always lead to all of those damn butterflies again and she tried not to make a fool of herself yet repeatedly failed. The other girl was equally as much of a loser, but she played it off so well that she seemed cool even when she was tripping over a chair on her way out.

 

“Good morning,” Clarke smiles a little too wide until she reminds herself not to. _Play it cool, Griffin._ It wasn’t even a good morning. It was raining buckets and her head kind of hurt and oh dear god Mr. Kane had been on a Monet kick last class and there was no way he was past it already. But somehow in her familiar little café, Clarke felt like the morning might just be good after all.

 

“Are you too good for umbrellas?” the girl asks with pointed eyes at Clarke’s less than attractive state. In fact, Clarke probably looked a bit like a drowned cat.

 

Instead of admitting either to her forgetfulness or her laziness she merely nods. “Definitely.”  That causes laughter to fill the space next to her. It was a simple sound but one she could use more of.

 

“Here you go, princess. Extra whip just as you like it.” Bellamy gives her a wink and she rolls her eyes back in his direction. If she hadn’t met his girlfriend in the past she would think he was hitting on her. But no, his general demeanour was just to flirt with the world.

 

“What do you get to drink anyway?” the girl asks out of nowhere and Clarke doesn’t know which she finds more strange: the fact that she was revealing her coffee order before her first name or the fact that they didn’t already know this tidbit of information about each other.

 

Even though it’s stupid Clarke flushes just a little bit. Maybe this place was _too_ warm today. “Salted caramel latte…with soy milk.” She admits a little bit shamefully. Raven rolled her eyes every time Clarke requested it muttering the words “basic bitch” under her breath. It wasn’t as if she was not completely aware of how basic she sounded, but regular milk gave her gas and that was the last thing she wanted while sitting in class. “You?”

 

The girl just smirks as Bellamy sets her drink down in front of her. “You’re going to have to earn that answer,” she says with an air of importance.

 

“Oh I’ll get right on a good barter and trade system as soon as I get home today,” Clarke says with as much sarcasm as she can muster when her insides are flipping around. Then she glances at the clock high on the wall and curses under her breath. “As I don’t have anything to offer currently I suppose I’ll take my leave.” 

 

The girl nods. “For the best,” she says and Clarke is still reeling from her smile even as the rain soaked through her jacket on the way to class.

 


	2. Chapter 2

“Okay, I know that look.” Raven is back on Clarke’s case exactly one day after the last time she had antagonised her roommate. Clarke was now strewn out in the living room, on a proper mission as she crafted what ought to be the next damn Mona Lisa. “This is your, ‘I’m in love and I am determined to be amazingly artful because of it’ look.”

 

“I don’t even think artful is a word,” Clarke sighs. She was too busy to be distracted right now. She had already begun sketching landscapes and doodling comics and drawing wide, large brush strokes for a sunset. But none of it was good enough. Even if what she was trading it in for the most trivial piece of information.

 

“Mm, well it should be,” she declares. She throws herself onto the couch behind Clarke, a Ben and Jerry’s pint in her hand. It was Clarke’s Ben and Jerry’s but she was having enough struggles as it was that she didn’t even bother bringing it up. “Did you meet them at a party? Or in class? Have you had sex yet? Tell me you’ve had sex before falling in love again.”

 

The worst part was that she didn’t even have a defence. Except maybe that she wasn’t _in love_ , that would be absurd. She was in like. And it just so happened that she was in like with a girl who’s name she may not know. But she just keeps on at what she’s doing, trying to remind herself not to press too hard onto her current work out of frustration.

 

“Clarke, I have been single for months, okay? Actual, literal months. Give me something to live vicariously through. I’m begging you.”

 

In all honesty Raven did look pretty pitiful strewn across the couch, industrial size spoon in hand as she devoured ice cream that wasn’t even hers. Out of true love for her friend Clarke stops what she’s doing, pulls the ice cream from Raven’s hands and tugs her off the couch with a firm pull. This time Raven catches herself and stands up, mumbling underneath her breath about how Clarke has _got_ to stop doing that. Clarke walks over to the front door and pulls Raven’s coat off the hook and holds it out to her. “Are you kicking me out? I pay half the rent. You can’t kick me out.”

 

With a roll of her eyes Clarke shakes her head. “I’m making you go find someone. I don’t care who it is or what you do with them. But use protection and have a grand old time. Get it out of your system and leave me the hell alone.”

 

Raven’s face is one of pure incredulousness. “Are _you,_ Clarke Griffin, suggesting I go have sex with some random man or woman simply to pull myself out of this dry, invasive funk I’ve managed to lower myself into?”

 

“Or drink some wine or do the tango or eat _their_ expensive ice cream.” She pushes the coat into Raven’s arms. “I don’t care what you do. Just come home with a story of your own to tell instead of sticking your nose in mine. Got it?”

 

She shrugs her shoulders and pulls the coat on. “I guess, but if anyone ever asks I’m telling them that you are a terrible life coach.”

 

“Sue me,” Clarke answers in a dry voice. The door shuts behind Raven and Clarke is left with a pile of art supplies and some mild regret. Perhaps the distraction had been nice after all.

 

//

 

Never has Clarke felt stupider than the next morning when she walks into Java Jaha with a perfectly ordinary sketch tucked into her school folder. Odds are it was remaining precisely in that location, but it’s mere existence made her feel silly for bringing it along at all.

 

It was a late start for her today, her first class of the day had been cancelled and she had used the extra hour to catch up on some much needed sleep. So it is a bit of a surprise when Clarke finds her unnamed friend still sitting at the bar, cup clutched in her hand.

 

When Clarke goes to the counter to order she realises that her eyes are on the girl instead of Bellamy when he says, “Anyone home?” She jerks her attention back to him, not missing the subtle turn of the girl’s lips who had been skillfully avoiding Clarke’s eyes until then. Little eavesdropper. “You know, the least you could do is spare me a look.”

 

She rolls her eyes and slides her card through to pay for the drink he had already rung up for her. “As if you need any more attention.”

 

“I’ll have you know my girlfriend broke up with me. I’m fragile right now, princess.”

 

She offers him a sympathetic arm pat in condolence. “Fish are in the sea, or something like that,” she says, her attention once again on the girl who casts a single glance with a less than innocent smile. “Best wishes.” She probably leaves Bellamy behind with a shaking head at how obvious she was being but whatever. That wasn’t important right now.

 

“So,” the girl is saying before Clarke has even situated herself. “I trust you have come with ample offering?”

 

The comment leaves Clarke wondering how long she had been waiting here. Was it really coincidence? Or had she been nursing a half warm drink for the last hour? “Um…” she starts and then fades out because she’s distracted by the ‘ample offering’ that suddenly seems ten pounds heavier in her bag. She makes the mistake of looking at it and the girl’s eyes follow hers. When Clarke meets them again she looks nothing if not mischievous.

 

Then she’s smiling and holding out her hand and Clarke is so embarrassed that she’s pretty certain even her toes have developed a blush. “Come on, you know you can’t resist the mystery.”

 

There’s something about her taunting tone that has Clarke pulling her folder from her bag and reaching in to grab the first piece of paper on the right hand side. She doesn’t even look as she pulls it out, just slams it on the counter and slides it over with as little fanfare as possible. “It was good homework practise,” she mumbles because she  hates the way this feels as the girl stares silently down at the counter and Clarke’s heart about beats out of her chest. This is not what crushes were supposed to feel like. They were meant to be light and exciting. Not heavy and incapacitating.

 

“You drew this?” she asks and Clarke doesn’t miss the awe in her tone. It was the reverent sort of voice, one that seemed as if to think it would break the moment if it were raised too loud.

 

She shrugs in response because it wasn’t anything she was necessarily that proud of. Just a sketch. Clarke sketched daily. But then the girl is tracing her fingers over the Java Jaha sign and a smile plays on her lips at Bellamy behind the counter, swirling a mountain of whip cream onto a latte. There are people throughout the café, as it often was most mornings. One family sat at the corner table, a gentleman read his newspaper at the bar. A few high schoolers had backpacks slung over one shoulder as they waited in line. The two people that the girl stops to marvel at though are the two girls, one with light, wavy hair and one whose hair was tied halfway back in intricate braids, sitting in the very stools they sat in now.

 

It was obvious she liked it and the thought made Clarke’s throat run a little bit dry. “It’s just a sketch,” she repeats from the recesses of her mind but then the girl is lifting the paper off of the counter and frowning when she sees the stains of coffee that have collected on the back. She holds it out in offering back to Clarke, but she just shakes her head. “You can keep it. I have enough drawings at home.”

 

The girl’s eyes go back to the drawing and they must land right on Clarke’s signature because her face breaks into a wide smile as she says, “Thank you, Clarke,” and the first time her name rolls off the girls tongue might just be the first time Clarke has ever understood what it must be like to love someone you barely know. “Black.”

 

“What?” she asks, dumbfounded by the proclamation of colour.

 

“That’s how I drink my coffee,” she says with a shy smile. “I just take it black. Though, this arrangement hardly seems fair now.”

 

“You could…offer me something else?” Clarke suggests, her voice nervous and her smile matching. “Something worth the trade.”

 

First she bites her lip and then the girl says, “Lexa. My name is Lexa.” And everything just sort of falls into place. Because of course Lexa has bright green eyes and drinks black coffee and loves charcoal sketches. And who else but Lexa laughed like it cost her nothing and wore long cardigans and arrived two hours early to a coffee shop just ensure she got the stool she wanted before surrendering it anyway. It’s the sort of name that was tailored to fit a girl like the one who sat next to Clarke.

 

When Bellamy places her drink in front of her Clarke realises how foolish she must look, all dopey smile as she stares at the girl she has known for weeks now with a name she’s just learned. “Well, Lexa, it’s nice to…meet you?” Halfway through her sentence Clarke recognises the inaccuracy and shakes her head.

 

Clarke feels slightly less embarrassed when Lexa’s face splits into an equally dorky grin, green eyes bright  as she extends a hand. Clarke takes it out of habit, hoping Lexa doesn’t notice that her palm is slightly moist from all of the nerves she was still recovering from. If she does, she must not care very much, because she holds it in her grasp a few beats too long as she says, “It’s nice to meet you too, Clarke.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Idk, these two are just too much fun to write. I'm gonna try and post the last chapter either tomorrow or Friday. Hopefully you guys are enjoying this somewhat!


	3. Chapter 3

Thursday morning rolls around and Raven comes stumbling out of her room, looking worse for the wear. Clarke isn’t sure if that means she had a wonderful time or an awful one. “So?” she asks as her friend continues her zombie like walk straight for the kitchen. “Did you have a good time?”

 

Raven grunts, burying her head in the fridge and resurfacing with a slice of the pizza Clarke had ordered last night. “I met a girl,” she mumbles around the food in her mouth, crumbs tumbling to the tiled floor in the process. Clarke shakes her head but doesn’t bother lecturing Raven. There was no point in lecturing Raven before at least ten in the morning.

 

“Oh?” Clarke asks, only mildly surprised. In the past Raven had only ever had boyfriends, but she talked gay enough times with Clarke that she wouldn’t be surprised if there was a little bi hiding dormant in Raven Reyes.

 

With a nod of her head Raven goes to the sink and fills up a glass of water, chugging it down in one go. “A straight girl with a long term boyfriend who wanted someone to help her paint her living room.”

 

“You…”

 

“That’s right. I left the paint fumes in this apartment behind to go inhale some stranger’s instead. I hope you feel betrayed.” She goes back to her pizza, and Clarke realises she isn’t even hung over, just her usual morning self. So dramatic sometimes.

 

Clarke shakes her head and goes for the fridge, taking out a slice of pizza for herself as well. Might as well make good use of it. “I don’t know if we can come back from this,” she jokes and Raven rewards her with one of her rare morning smiles.

 

“She has a brother though, said he just broke up with his girlfriend and is all emo and in need of someone to cheer him up,” at the prospect Raven sounds a bit peppier. “So in payment for all of my hard painting work she told me where he works and how to get him into bed.”

 

“That’s…” Clarke just fades off, glancing at the clock and feeling a swirl of excitement at the thought of what just might await her at Java Jaha this morning. “You have fun with your stalking and wooing, I’m going to get ready for school.” It didn’t hurt to omit just where she would be going before class.

 

“This was your idea!” Raven calls after her. And though she may be right, Clarke still would have a mighty fine rebuttal if she wasn’t busy getting ready. There were more important things to attend to. After all, Raven would always be around to argue with later.

 

//

 

This morning the sun is too bright and the sidewalks too crowded and Clarke hates every other slow walking student that ambles in front of her, blocking her path to get where she was trying to go. It had already taken her far too long to get out of the house, more indecisive about her appearance than most mornings. Maybe this whole thing was stupid but that didn’t stop the way her heart stumbled over its own beats or how her hands were sweating with anticipation. This girl, Lexa, had been in her head for weeks and now she had a name to go along with her green eyes and her wide smiles and Clarke is hopeful that this connection didn’t end there.

 

For some reason it’s a particularly busy morning. There’s a line almost all the way to the door and even Bellamy doesn’t acknowledge her entrance with a promised latte delivery. She sighs, debating if she was willing to wait in a line this long or if she would simply look too pathetic if she forwent her coffee in favour of what she had actually come here for.

 

Looking over she sees criss-crossing braids and a slim form staring down at her coffee cup. Clarke’s stomach drops and she decides that she can definitely wait through this forever long line. Her nerves were getting the best of her and suddenly all of her eager anticipation turned to anxious dread. She waits and waits, tapping her foot and crossing and uncrossing her arms. Her nervous energy is enough to get her a variety of looks from the other customers waiting in line and she does her best to calm herself after one particularly angry glare from the woman in front of her.

 

When she gets to the front of the line Clarke’s mouth about drops open because who else could have been holding up this line the whole time by flirting with the barista than Raven Reyes? “What the hell are you doing here?” Clarke asks with a voice a little too loud.

 

It must tip Raven off that there was something going on beyond Clarke being pleasantly surprised to discover her best friend once more this morning. “Just getting some coffee. I do leave our apartment sometimes, you know.”

 

“You know princess here?” Bellamy asks, surprised and turning to Raven. “I didn’t know this ray of sunshine had any friends aside from the equally bright ray of sunshine over there.” He points to where Lexa sits and Clarke looks to Raven with pleading eyes. _Please do not interfere_ she practically shouts through her mind.

 

Raven clearly hears but seems ready to disregard. “What did you say brought you here again?” Clarke asks in fake innocence. “Did you…hear about it from someone?” Raven’s eyes narrow and Clarke can’t help but smile, knowing she had found her saving grace. Her friend had the best of intentions, but it wouldn’t surprise her if Raven’s best intentions left Clarke single for the rest of eternity. It wasn’t even that she was looking to be _not_ single, but she was looking to be not single if it included a certain girl who stole bar stools and drank her coffee black and looked at Clarke’s drawings like they were the best damn thing to have ever been created.

 

Knowing that her friend will remain quiet for the time being, Clarke turns to Bellamy, awaiting her latte. He shakes his head and shoos her card away as she reaches forward to swipe it. “I think you should go pay your friend a visit before you bother buying anything,” Bellamy tells her.

 

Raven shoots her a look and then tries to peer around the crowd in search of whoever this mystery woman Clarke was apparently friends with may be. It’s busy enough that she doesn’t seem to single her out though.

 

Taking a deep breath Clarke walks towards where Lexa sits, planting herself on the familiar stool next to her. The first thing she notices is the way Lexa’s eyes shift all across Clarke’s face before falling to the counter in front of her. The second thing she notices is the extra cup sitting next to Lexa’s usual one. It wouldn’t even be fair of Clarke to say that she tried not to smile.

 

“I felt like I owed you a bit,” Lexa says, pushing the cup a little closer to Clarke and offering a shy smile as she bowed her head down a bit. It was unlike her to seem so shy and it made Clarke smile. “Someone other than Bellamy made it but don’t worry, I told him to put extra whip on it.”

 

Without a word Clarke takes the offering and drinks from it. It’s a little cold but she doesn’t even care. It’s the best damn cup of coffee she’s ever had. “I feel like we’re back where we started on Tuesday,” she jokes, wiping her upper lip in fear of whipped cream having collected on it. Lexa shoots her a questioning look and Clarke gestures to her coffee. “This is definitely worth more than a drawing.”

 

Lexa just shakes her head. “No one’s drawn me something before,” she says, looking more to her cup than to Clarke. She fidgets in her seat as she says, “That makes it special.”

 

“Still,” Clarke muses, eyes only for the girl next to her. She does catch Raven in her periphery giving a thumbs up and she knows she will be getting the third degree when she gets home tonight. “I feel like our system needs some more clear parameters.”

 

At that Lexa smiles and looks back to Clarke who doesn’t try and act like she hadn’t been staring. Sometimes these things were a bit ambiguous, but this time Clarke felt very certain that she wasn’t the only one interested in moving this past the café’s uncomfortable stools. “You were the one in charge of determining how this whole barter and trading system worked.”

 

An idea fills Clarke’s mind and the girl’s smile is bright enough to block out all of the reasons that it might be a bad one. “Hand me that napkin,” she instructs and Lexa responds dutifully. She hands it out with a raised eyebrow and a quirked lip. Clarke takes it and fishes one of her drawing pencils from her bag. Napkins had never been her favourite, but she’d been dragged out to enough dinners with her parents as a kid that she had gotten pretty decent at sketching on them. She sketches first a coffee cup and next a series of braids and long, flowing hair beneath. She doodles out a smile and then lastly two empty bar stools. She hands it over. “So do these drawings work like gems? The more you have the less valuable they are?”

 

Lexa takes the offering and bites away a smile as she muses over Clarke’s statement. “I think quite the opposite,” she whispers, holding the half-assed napkin art work in her hand. After a moment she carefully deposits the drawing in her bag and pulls out a notebook. She rips free a piece of paper and takes her mechanical pencil in hand. She leans over the counter top, covering whatever she’s doing with her body.

 

“Oh are you drawing something for me now?” Clarke asks in a bit of a tease, totally not looking at the curve of Lexa’s shoulder or how she keeps stubbornly pushing her hair from her face.

 

What Lexa hands over originally goes unseen as Clarke is a bit too distracted by the red in Lexa’s cheeks and just what it does to her. But then she looks at the lined notebook drawing and a small laugh breaks free because it’s so simple and innocent and perfect and she couldn’t imagine a better return for her own work.

 

There are two stick figure girls, one with wavy hair and the other with a bit of a mess around her head. Each hold a box in their hands and the crazy haired girl has a speech bubble with a ten digit number written inside of it. “Can we talk about the proportions of these coffees?” Clarke asks, gesturing to what she assumed were cups. “They are as big as we are. That is a seriously intimidating cup of coffee.”

 

Lexa glares for just a second before she’s smiling again. “Well seems fitting considering how often we’re in here.” She shrugs like giant coffee cups had been her intention all along.

 

Clarke goes with it and says, “Well then maybe we should go somewhere that serves things in addition to coffee.”

 

“And muffins,” Lexa adds with a pointed stare.

 

“And muffins,” Clarke agrees. She writes her own number down at the bottom of Lexa’s drawing and rips it off, handing it to her.

 

“I don’t know if I’m offended or honoured,” she says as she takes it, shaking her head at her dismembered art.

 

“Well then,” Clarke answers with eyes that shine too brightly and a smile that just won’t quit. “I guess I’ll just have to make it up to you.”

 

Her answer is with mischievous eyes and a tongue darts out to wet her lips before Lexa simply says, “I guess you will.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so I'm a little bit considering doing a fourth chapter? I don't know though, if anyone would be interested I guess let me know below and I might continue just for one more chapter!


	4. Chapter 4

“I cannot believe-“

 

Clarke starts to say at the same time Raven shouts, “I KNEW you were in love with some girl.”

 

It takes a lot for her not to groan out loud and roll her eyes and the only reason she resists is because Raven is already in a full on gloat. Any form of complaining that Clarke may attempt would only further enrage her.

 

It didn’t matter that Clarke had gone out of her way to try and avoid coming home until the absolute latest she could. Once the school library closed there was nowhere left to go unless she was looking to hang out in a bar or a Super Walmart on a Thursday night. Raven was of course still awake and ready to harass. “I’m not in love with her,” Clarke insists, allowing herself the slightest of eye rolls to accompany the words.

 

She moves to walk past her friend only to have her path blocked. “Who is she?”

 

Maybe this whole argument would go better if Clarke didn’t smile as she said, “Lexa.” The look in Raven’s eyes forces the corners of her lips down quickly but it’s already too late. “Can you move? My bag is heavy.”

 

“Where did you meet this _Lexa_?” Raven asks, stepping to the side but following Clarke into her room. “And _when_ were you going to bother to tell me about her?”

 

Clarke isn’t sure what will make this conversation go better. She could tell Raven that there wasn’t much to tell before yesterday when she had managed to learn Lexa’s name, which would lead to a whole other course of ‘you actually fell for someone who’s name you didn’t know?’ Or she could just let Raven know that too much information in her hands was a danger. Clarke could hardly be penalized for wanting to minimize it. “I met her at the coffee shop, and I was going to tell you once I actually had something to tell.” Before Raven can fire back any more questions Clarke jumps in. “How about you and Bellamy?”

 

Raven shrugs but Clarke does not miss the way she bites her lip and how her eyes jump to the side for a second. It had been a while since Raven had worn such a look. They must have hit it off. “Bellamy is looking to be a promising future screw.”

 

Clarke tuts because she really liked her coffee boy and it would be a shame if Raven broke him. “Be nice. He makes the best lattes.”

 

“Well for my sake let’s just hope that isn’t the only thing he’s good at,” Raven says with a blasé tone even though her words were enough to almost make Clarke blush. “Now spill.”

 

With a heaving sigh Clarke turns to her bag, pulling out the books she needed for homework and a small pile of trash in the process. “She stole my stool one day and then we duked it out over the damn seat for a while. She relented and from there…I don’t know.” It was the truth, she didn’t. Not really. She knew that Lexa did weird things to her stomach and warmed her toes on the coldest of days. She knew that the stick figure drawing would soon be hanging on her wall and the promise of something more than coffee left her excited in ways she hadn’t felt since high school. “She’s a cute girl and I like her. There’s not much to tell.”

 

But then her phone buzzes and Raven raises an eyebrow as she plants a hand on her hip. Clarke figures it’s her mom, it was always her mom, but then an unfamiliar number flashes on the screen and she reads it to discover that it was none other than the very girl they had been discussing. Her face breaks apart in a grin as she reads the invitation for dinner. “ _Not to be too forward or anything, but I have a feeling tomorrow would be an excellent night for sushi.”_   She was just really cute sometimes.

 

“You are so far gone,” Raven says with a shake of her head, throwing herself onto Clarke’s bed and picking through one of her textbooks. “I better be invited to the wedding.”

 

Clarke might bother to kick her off her bed and yell at her for the wet hair now on her pillow, but Lexa texts again saying, “ _Unless you don’t like sushi. In which case I think tomorrow night might be an excellent night for Italian or Chinese or hamburgers or whatever.”_ And she’s too distracted with trying to find a response to be bothered by Raven in the slightest. _“Except I don’t eat red meat so maybe scratch the hamburger idea?”_

 

“God you’re gross already,” Raven says dramatically, falling back to stare at Clarke’s ceiling as Clarke quickly types out a response.

 

_“Sushi would be great.”_

//

 

Friday evening starts out weird and Clarke considers it a bad omen for the evening in its entirety. She walks in from her last class of the day, which of course ran over, to find Raven sitting on the couch. Which was a totally normal occurrence for a Friday night except usually she was in her sweats and there was some more food lying about. So it’s a little strange, but it goes from a little to a lot when Bellamy walks out of her kitchen with a bowl of popcorn and a glass of orange soda.

 

“Hey,” she says in surprise, shaking her head. That whole damn coffee shop was super imposing onto every aspect of her life.

 

“Weird,” he says as he steps past her, putting the things in his hands down on the coffee table and falling next to Raven. “Don’t start expecting homemade lattes, princess,” he says, an arm falling around Raven’s shoulders.

 

“We’ll cross the bridge when we come to it,” Clarke responds with a wave of her hand. And then, “Raven, can I talk to you for just a minute.”

 

With a shrug of her shoulders Raven stands, a hand running through Bellamy’s hair as she walks by. Clarke grabs her arm and pulls her into her bedroom, shutting the door with a bit too much force. “Whoa there, kitten,” Raven says with hands raised in surrender. “Is it so bad that coffee boy is over? I’m sure he was joking about the latte thing…”

 

“Remember all this week how I’ve been acting like I want you completely out of my love life and treating your very existence as a complete and utter nuisance?”

 

“As opposed to every other week?” Raven asks in joking. She stares down at her nails to fully make Clarke aware of how done with this conversation she was already.

 

“I was lying okay?” Clarke says in a rush of a breath, her stomach doing all sorts of crazy shit that she was not used to. The last time she’d gone out had been with Finn and it had been the most boring date which they’d repeated six times over. It was easy and she barely even bothered to do a full face of makeup for it. But Lexa…Lexa was different and she needed someone to remind her that she wasn’t fifteen years old and she needed to find her chill. “I want you to meddle and intervene and make this entire process as painful as possible for me because if I try and do this on my own I am going to vomit.”

 

Raven shakes her head but she at least has enough humanity in her to look sorry for Clarke. “Did she ask you out?”

 

She nods in a rush. “Yes, and the last thing I need is for this to be the _one_ night you don’t insist on harassing every detail of my love life while the coffee boy sits in my living room.”

 

“Coffee boy isn’t leaving,” Raven says, holding up a finger to let Clarke know that was an inarguable condition. “However I will take pity on you if only for the fact that your hand sweat is literally soaking through my shirt right now,” she says as she shakes Clarke’s hands from her shoulders.

 

Not a minute is wasted as she turns to her closet, desperate to find something that was actually still worth wearing.

 

“You are such a lost cause.”

 

“Please don’t remind me,” Clarke sighs, pulling one hideous sweater out after the other. “Just help me keep that under wraps until the third date?”

 

“I’m not a miracle worker.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys did not disappoint in the asking for more department! I was actually pretty surprised at the amount of people who wanted more. Of course when I sat down to write the fourth chapter last night things got kind of out of hand and well, now there is also a fifth chapter. The date will take place then! Feel free to keep commenting, I love reading them!


	5. Chapter 5

The doorbell rings when Raven is still attempting to twist a particularly stubborn piece of Clarke’s hair back. “Can you get the door?” Raven shouts out to Bellamy who, as far as either girl had been aware, had just been sitting in the living room for the last forty minutes. Raven had told him to put what he wanted on Netflix and Clarke had made fun of her for literally inviting him over for Netflix and chill. She quickly shut up when Raven threatened to leave her to her own devices.

 

“This is such a disaster,” Clarke murmurs under her breath. She could only imagine the sort of questions Lexa would be asking when Bellamy opened the door. Clarke stands and smooths her top down, taking one last look in the mirror to admire Raven’s more than competent hair and makeup job. It wasn’t that Clarke couldn’t do this sort of thing on her own. It was just that she couldn’t do it when she was so caught up in the panic of an upcoming date. Senseless panic, really. It wasn’t like she hadn’t been on plenty of dates in the past. This wasn’t meant to be any different.

 

“Hey, I did not abandon my date for you to not give this a proper go.” Raven says this with steely determination and a pointed finger. “Now go out there and get your girl.”

 

The words send Clarke into another spiral and she steps out to find Lexa and Bellamy both standing in the doorway. “When I said we should go somewhere other than the coffee shop I didn’t mean we had to bring the coffee shop with us,” Lexa jokes, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips as she gestures towards Bellamy.

 

Clarke breathes out a laugh, her nerves settling. “Guess I misunderstood.” Lexa stood in the doorway, looking so much the same but somehow different. Her green eyes were just as striking and Clarke was more than a little tempted to reach out and twirl a finger around her untamed hair.

 

“Alright kids,” Bellamy says, turning between Clarke and Lexa with a serious stare. “I want you home no later than midnight and don’t drink and drive.”

 

Raven goes to stand beside him and nods solemnly. “And use protection.” Bellamy bats her arm and she grabs his hand and says, “We can’t stop them from doing it, but we can at least keep them from getting genital warts.”

 

“Oh my god,” Clarke groans. They were worse than her actual parents. “Are you ready to go? Please say you’re ready to go.”

 

Lexa laughs and nods, waving goodbye to Bellamy and Raven as Clarke pulled the door shut behind her. “Your friend seems fun.”

 

“Don’t let her fool you,” Clarke says, heading toward the elevator. “She’s really just a pain in the ass.” A pain in the ass who had been willing to sacrifice her date for forty minutes in order to aid Clarke in her time of need. She was the best kind of pain in the ass maybe.

 

They enter the empty elevator and the doors shut and Lexa looks over at Clarke, and smiles as she says, “You look nice.”

 

On second thought, maybe Raven was actually just the best in general.

 

//

 

As with any first date Clarke’s worries consisted of not having anything to talk about or saying the wrong thing or getting something stuck in her teeth without knowing it.

 

This might be the first time where she didn’t need to be worried in the slightest.

 

She and Lexa walk to the nearest sushi place which wasn’t far at all. They shove hands deep in their pockets and talk about school and work and music the whole way there. At dinner Lexa does not hesitate to suggest about ten different rolls all in the same breath and sits back with a slight blush. “I kind of like food.” Clarke laughs because who doesn’t?

 

Lexa talks about her dog Gus and Clarke tells stories of her family’s late hamster Jackson. She laughs her way through the story of the time he escaped from his cage and made a point to shit in each and every one of her dad’s, and only her dad’s, shoes and Lexa laughs right along with her.

 

When there’s the briefest of lulls Lexa brings up Clarke’s art and she blushes because it’s only art if you squint and Lexa shakes her head, insistent. She talks about her friend Anya who died when she was sixteen but used to draw as if she knew she would run out of time to do it later on in life. She asks what Clarke wants most out of life and Clarke retaliates by asking what she thinks is the most life has to offer.

 

She shrugs her shoulders and sips at her soda. “Maybe not much,” she says and Clarke considers Lexa’s friend who didn’t get much at all. But then Lexa is looking back up at Clarke and smiling as she says, “But maybe a hell of a lot. I guess…it depends on what we’re willing to take from it.”

 

Not surprising that she speaks like the philosophy minor she was. (According to Lexa it would be impractical to major in that course but would look good on applications if she was  versatile in her degrees.)

 

When the food comes Lexa breaks out some unfair skills with chopsticks as she reaches forward and concocts a dipping sauce made out of wasabi and soy sauce. She notices Clarke watching her and offers to do the same for her. Clarke accepts.

 

Lexa grabs the biggest roll first, dipping just the bottom in her sauce and hesitating only for a second before she manages to fit the whole thing in her mouth. “It’s really good,” she mumbles a minute later when she’s managed to chew and swallow some of it. Clarke is still too busy laughing to have eaten anything just yet.

 

When they finish eating neither girl is ready to go part ways already and so they walk around outside, both complaining of too full stomachs and still sucking on the post meal mints they’d been offered.

 

It’s chilly out but not terribly uncomfortable and the pair of them wander easily, walking past the shops and restaurants and bars that covered the streets by the university.

 

“So is this how you always get your dates?” Clarke finds herself asking after a few minutes as they turn down a side residential street. “Steal their seats and then withhold your coffee order for collateral?”

 

She has an easy smile in response and an even easier hand to hold as she reaches out and grabs Clarke’s. It ignites the sort of feelings that Clarke was convinced had been forever left behind in high school, somewhere on the basement floor where endless rounds of spin the bottle had taken place. “I hardly want to reveal all my secrets,” she answers.

 

“Hm,” Clarke says, her own response stuck somewhere between her hand and her brain. “Suppose I’ll have to offer you a trade you can’t refuse.”

 

There was sure to be a time where this game of theirs might get old. A late night in March when their hands are clasped together and their hearts fluttering was not yet that time. “Go on then,” she says and Clarke is momentarily distracted as they walk beneath a streetlamp. She takes in the side of Lexa’s face, the definition of her jaw and the way her eyes shift over to Clarke’s when she doesn’t answer straight away.

 

“Alright, well I’ll tell you how I _don’t_ get my dates anymore,” Clarke offers. She knew it a very serious rule to never discuss past flames on a first date, but somehow she thought this would be a fair exception. “I do not find dates in school libraries where boring boys hang around, waiting to use easy pick-up lines and make cheesy origami figures in place of actual flirting.”

 

“That actually sounds nice,” Lexa argues and if Clarke has learned anything about this girl tonight it was that she liked people who made her things. “Aside from the boy part.”

 

Clarke shrugs her free shoulder in response. “That part was fine but I swear it was like dating an actual brick wall. On the sixth date his phone went off while he was in the bathroom and it was his girlfriend, wondering when he would be home.”

 

“Ouch,” Lexa breathes out, looking over at Clarke with sympathetic eyes and her mouth turned down at the corners. “See, this is why I only let beautiful girls with equally beautiful artwork pick me up.”

 

Maybe if the words didn’t make her breath rush out of her body Clarke would laugh. “Wow, I guess I lucked out with specifics like that,” she manages to say after recovering.

 

Somehow they end up where everything had started. A stupid little coffee shop with an even stupider name. Lexa gestures to one of the outside tables and Clarke falls easily into a seat. She lets her hand rest on the table but doesn’t make a move to grab Lexa’s again as she sits down across from her.

 

“I may have...modified some of my requirements,” Lexa admits and the dim lights from the signs around them allow Clarke to see her smile. “To answer your question though, no. I don’t generally woo my girls through seat stealing and secret coffee orders.”

 

“Oh?” Clarke says because her brain hasn’t quite caught up with her mouth. It’s still lost in Lexa’s eyes and the silent wondering of just how she had managed to score this date. “How’d I get so lucky then?”

 

Now Lexa’s blushing and biting her lip. “You just have a really well placed bar stool.”

 

“Why do you think I fought you so much for it?” she laughs. It really was great, a good vantage place for the rest of the café with a gently broken in cushion and the morning sun always around you but never in your eyes.

 

“So have you ever made art for someone whose name you didn’t know before?” Lexa asks, leaning closer, chin rested in her hand.

 

With a raise of an eyebrow Clarke makes Lexa aware of what she’s waiting on.

 

“In the third grade I made a bracelet for a girl who I thought was the love of my life, and when I gave it to her she promptly told me I spelt her name wrong.” She sighs and shakes her head. “My unrequited love was never realised all because I’m mildly dyslexic.”

 

Clarke chuckles, more than okay with the offering. “No,” she answers, swallowing heavily as she sits back. She tries to challenge Lexa with her eyes even though she felt like doing nothing more than shying away at her next admission. “I don’t usually give out my drawings.” Not since she was young. Not since she’d been laughed at by an ex or sneered at by her art teacher. There was too much rejection in the creative world. She’d been done with people telling her she wasn’t good enough.

 

“So why me?” Lexa asks in barely a breath and Clarke goes to answer but Lexa holds up her hand. “Wait, you’re supposed to make me barter first.” With open faced palms Clarke gestures for Lexa to continue. There’s a long pause of silence and Lexa just sits and stares back at Clarke, eyes blinking every few seconds as she thought through her next confession. “Normally I…would have just given a person their preferred seat back,” she says and the implication is obvious.

 

“Why not me?” Clarke challenges, not offering anything  of her own in return yet.

 

 Her answering smirk tells Clarke what she needs to know already. “You were cute and demanding and actually quite rude.” Lexa shrugs. “I liked it.”

 

This was a conversation Clarke would have to make a point to report back to her mother one day. She’d grown up hearing how she had to learn how to talk to people or she would never make any friends. Joke’s on Abby apparently. “I drew you a picture because I wanted to draw…you,” Clarke finally admits. For the past three and a half weeks she had been sketching and painting and doodling like crazy, trying to tame this insatiable desire she had to draw something, _someone,_ in particular. She knew what that feeling was like as well as she knew what it did to her. It lead to giant canvases covering the living room and three sketchbooks filled to the brim in the matter of four days. She had eager hands and desperate eyes and she knew exactly what they wanted from her. There was nothing worse than refraining from doing exactly that.

 

“Me?” Lexa asks in a breath.

 

Clarke shrugs and tries to think of a way to put into words all of that frantic energy she’d been fighting with for weeks now. “When I want to draw something I can’t get it out of my head.” It was a heavy confession, an admission to the fact that Lexa herself had been in Clarke’s head, tearing through her reasoning and breaking free in the midst of homework projects.

 

“So the drawing…” she opens, fingernail picking against something on the table and eyes moving between Clarke and her current work. “It was to get me out of your head?”

 

The answer should have been yes, but the truth was a little more complicated. Clarke reaches into her bag and pulls out her most recent sketchbook. She flips through a few pages of half assed sceneries before dropping it open on the table in front of Lexa. It was a bit embarrassing but surely whatever she got in return for this would be pretty good. “It hasn’t exactly worked.”

 

“Oh.” And the sound is so reverent and awe filled that it warms Clarke up much like in that same way Lexa’s reaction in the coffee shop a few days prior had.

 

Drawing a still life without any life in front of you was never easy, but Clarke had gotten good at drawing from memory since her dad had died.  Looking at her work from an upside down angle now though she knows that there are things she would change. With Lexa sitting in front of her Clarke can see that her jawline is not quite so harsh or her eyes as wide. She had thinner lips and an easier smile, but Lexa doesn’t seem to note any flaw. “This is…” she starts and Clarke reaches over, flipping the page to show Lexa that there was more to go.

 

“A bit creepy, I know,” she says with a nervous laugh. Raven was always reminding her that drawing people without their consent was like taking a picture when they weren’t paying attention. That was most likely because Raven detested being drawn more than anything else. “But every time I drew you I would think, this is it, now I can move onto something else.”

 

“And then?” Lexa asks as she continues to flip through the pages, clearly noticing that Clarke had yet to move onto something else.

 

“And then I would start all over again. The more I drew you the more you took over.”

 

Lexa closes the last page and shakes her head as if in disbelief. “I don’t think it’s creepy, just for the record.” It’s dark but even so Clarke can see the light blush that covers Lexa’s cheeks at the admission. “And I’m glad.”

 

“That I drew you?” Clarke can’t help but ask in mild confusion.

 

“That you couldn’t get me out of your head.” Clarke doesn’t stand a chance against fighting herself in mirroring Lexa’s answering smile.

 

“Me too,” she admits, fully convinced that after tonight there would be many more sketchbooks filled in a matter of days.

 

A short while later when Lexa’s lips are sliding over hers and Clarke finally has the chance to wrap her fingers in Lexa’s untamed hair the only thought she manages to have before losing herself in this girl completely is that it hadn’t been a bad trade off at all.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright this time it is really the end!! Thank to those of you who asked for more and I'm glad you enjoyed it so much. Keep your eyes peeled, I definitely have both more AU clexa and canon clexa stories that I'm hoping to write. Let me know what you thought of the ending. Oh, and I forgot to mention: anyone interested on reading my ramblings on tumblr feel free to follow me at blog/timespaceandpixiedust.Thanks again for reading :)


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